Cruel and Without Feeling? Full of Feeling? What to Consider?

A fold of the sleeve, the silk ripples,

Sing of sorrow and of union, of harmony and discord, it's none of my concern,

Fan open, drums sound, then silence,

Love within the play, love beyond the stage, who can claim it?

Habitually, joy, anger, sorrow, and delight are concealed in flamboyant performances,

Whether the words are eloquent or not, bone and ash are mine,

In troubled times, a drifting, I endure the flames,

A low position, yet not forgetting the worries for my country, even if no one knows,

The audience departs, colors lost to view,

He sings on stage, a song of heartbreak and farewell,

The word 'love' cannot be fully captured; she sings with blood instead,

The curtain rises, the curtain falls, I am but a guest,

You take your turn, I step on stage,

Do not mock the wind and moon, do not laugh at the absurd,

I once asked about blue and yellow, I once sang with vigor of rise and fall,

Is there no compassion? Is there compassion? It is difficult to fathom,

Is there no compassion? Is there compassion? It is difficult to fathom.